


I've Always Known

by AU Mer-Maid (neonstardust)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, I'm not tagging everything because of spoilers but this will be sheer angst, June YahaShira Day, June YahaShira Day 2018, Unhappy Ending, Warning: Possible Crying Ahead, YahaShira Day, YahaShira Day 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 00:31:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14705727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonstardust/pseuds/AU%20Mer-Maid
Summary: Shirabu throws away the bracelets, burns the papers to ash and dust, hides the evidence with feverish care.If only destroying the truth could be so simple.





	I've Always Known

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Em, Emrys please, please, if you value your heart at all, please, don't read this, I beg of you Em, don't do it
> 
> For everyone else: Happy YahaShira Day!
> 
> Formerly a gift for Em

Shirabu doesn’t remember.

The car drive twists into a blur of empty landscapes and duplicate buildings, fueled by hands clasped loosely between their seats. The parking lot dissolves into colorful gates and towering attractions. Yahaba hanging onto his wrist, they navigate an endless maze, the rides appearing and vanishing into the void, far from Shirabu’s reach.

One moment the rollercoaster tilts beneath him, speeding faster and faster towards the ground, wind lashing his hair, screams of delight in his ears, but then it’s gone. Shirabu’s head hangs over the trashcan, body trembling. Behind him, Yahaba rubs soothing circles against his back, whispering in his ear, “It will be ok.”

_I should have told him._

The lights fade, but the sounds press against his ears like nails on a chalkboard. The scent of cheap pizza and deep-fried Oreos leave him edgy and nauseous. But Yahaba sits beside him, their shoulders brushing, and Shirabu wishes the moment will last for just a bit longer.

“I could still get you something.” Yahaba munches on a French fry. “A sandwich or maybe some crackers?”

Yahaba’s eyes trail over him, from the trembling hands Shirabu hides in his lap to his flushed cheeks, and, without a word, he leans against Shirabu, nose tickling his neck. “The food’s not that great. I’ll make you something later.”

Plate left abandoned on the picnic table, Yahaba leads the way through the maze of bright lights and jarring music with slow steps. Shirabu doesn’t speak, but with Yahaba, he never has to. Reading him like a book, Yahaba steers them past the worst of the crowds, searching out gentle rides and small exhibits tucked away at the corners of the amusement park like they’re hidden treasures, mysteries left unsolved.  

“You like shooting games, right?” Yahaba aims his water gun like it’s a pistol, blowing imaginary smoke off the barrel.

Shirabu glares at his target, watches it split into three, each one moving in dizzying circles, and shrugs. “Video games, yeah. Not”—he squints at the target until the vague outline of a stuffed toy comes into focus—“shooting teddy bears.”

“Afraid you’ll miss?” Yahaba nudges him with his elbow. “Guess it’s up to me to win the prize.”

Shirabu doesn’t know what the prize is. Blinking at his target which has now split into six, the mirror images spinning in time with the music, Shirabu doesn’t even know where to aim. His fingers tremble feebly around the trigger.

The timer sounds.

Strong hands resting on top of his, Yahaba’s chest against his back, warm like the sun, Shirabu watches the water hit the target, perfectly centered, even as it rises to the finish line.

Clarity strikes in startling moments, like a spotlight illuminating a black stage.

Shirabu’s fractured target snaps back together. To the left, Yahaba’s target rests, untouched. Sounds move around him in thick waves, slow and reluctant. Above Yahaba’s shocked cry of “Second?” someone else screams in victorious delight. The game attendant’s mouth moves, words lost to the roar of the rollercoaster streaking overhead, but when Yahaba hands migrate to Shirabu’s sides, pulling him into a protective hug, Shirabu hears him as clearly as if the words were carved into his soul.

“We’re on the same team here. I won’t leave you to fight alone.”

 _Maybe you should_.

The second-place prize hat is as ugly as its role, but Yahaba dons it proudly. It gives Shirabu something to stare at in the tunnel of love, where the space feels too small, closing in on him from all sides.

Pink lights cast Yahaba’s skin in a rosy glow. Their boat rocks gently in the water, but Shirabu finds his way onto Yahaba’s lap, close enough to find eyes like warm chocolate and lips that taste of kettle corn. Smile smug, Shirabu runs his fingers through Yahaba’s hair, no remorse when the hat disappears into the water below.

At the exit, legs unsteady on solid ground, Shirabu squints against the evening sky.

“Should I carry you?” Yahaba smirks.

“Should I murder you?”

The line for the Farris wheel snakes on for miles, but Yahaba hums softly, brushing stray hair from Shirabu’s eyes, caressing his hand along his cheek, watching him with love filled eyes as if trying to memorize every inch of Shirabu’s face. Under his gaze, Shirabu’s chest feels tight, mouth dry, warmth spreading along his skin, brighter than the setting sun.

“I’m so happy I met you.” Sitting on a seat of deep blue plastic, Shirabu wonders when the sweet nothings became so meaningful. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” The ride takes them higher and higher, climbing into an endless sky. There, Shirabu watches the lies and the truth blend together, take shape, dissolve like the clouds.

_I love you so much._

_I love you more than anything._

_I love you with all my heart._

The words taste bitter in his mouth. Wrong and ill-shaped, they cling to Shirabu’s tongue, get stuck in his throat. A million ways to say it, a million phrases, a million ways to strip it of its meaning and give it a new one all its own, and yet it’s still not enough to tell Yahaba all the things he wants to say.

“I love you.” Plain. Simple. Underwhelming. But it rings pure in his ears, so high up only the stars can hear him, conveying every word better left unsaid.

Yahaba’s arms around him, sitting on a seat that blends with the sky as if they’re merely floating there, dancing among the fireworks, Shirabu almost believes the lies.

The ground rushes up at them. The ride stops. The moment ends. Lights flicker around them as the crowds disperse. “Fifteen minutes til closing,” an unseen announcer declares.

“Ten minutes til closing.”

“Five minutes til closing.”

“Shirabu?” Yahaba tugs at his hand. “Something wrong?”

Workers mill around, sweeping up debris, but the park feels deserted, haunted. Shirabu doesn’t meet Yahaba’s gaze.

“I’m sick.”

“Sick?” Yahaba repeats. “Another fever?” He reaches for Shirabu’s forehead as if to take his temperature, but Shirabu turns away.

“You should’ve told me earlier.” Yahaba smiles. “We could’ve come here next week.” His lip trembles; swallowing hard, he recollects himself, pulls another smile into place.

The single spotlight grows, the stage cast completely in light, clarity burning like a raging fire. Shirabu feels each second, hears each heartbeat pounding through his chest, watches the tears brim in Yahaba’s eyes, only to disappear behind high walls and a smile that was never real.

The surprise feels numb, forced, even as it shakes Shirabu to his very core. Yahaba could read him like a book. He found meaning in sideways glances, wrote pages from each lingering touch. In the hushed silences, he searched Shirabu for the words he couldn’t say. In the weeks spent apart, each excuse for seeing a doctor more ridiculous than the last, Yahaba found the truth among the lies.

“Shirabu.”

As the deceptions crumble around them, so does the hope.

“Kenjirou.” Desperately, Yahaba pulls him closer. “Kenjirou, please.”

“You know.”

“Please.” Yahaba holds him tighter, like he’s afraid to ever let go. “Don’t say it.”

“You already know I’m going to die soon.”


End file.
